Told in Silence
by bromemos
Summary: How much more formidable would Katniss be, if she were to enter the arena without romantic uncertainty? If her emotional turmoil was replaced with firm will, what path would the games take?
1. Prologue

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

We were at the edge of the copse, in the blackberry bushes, when he told me. The new spring brought clear skies and fresh wind out in the wilderness, where the air didn't smell of coal smoke. A drizzle the night before left enough dew on the bushes to soak our shirtsleeves, but our discomfort was rewarded with fruit. Unwilling to store the berries with a bloody squirrel, I dropped my harvest in with Gale's. Though not much in the way of substance, they would fetch a good price with Greasy Sae—if he negotiated.

All that morning, his eyes had been fixed to mine. Judging. Searching. The intensity worried me. We were comfortable together by that point. It was a gradual acceptance, but raw desperation hurried the bonding. And I knew he would jeopardize it. The seminar on pubescent urges and what to expect from our bodies and our hormones had gotten to him; I could see it. I was sure he was about to blurt something about how he felt for me. We'd hunted together every day, for more than a year, and even I could understand the likelihood of emotions developing. I was nearly certain of my deduction, so of course I was blindsided.

"Katniss, if I told you something, would you promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Sure," I responded with an eyeroll.

"Promise on your mother. On Prim." Even with the rants against the capitol, he'd never invoked anything this serious. We'd stopped collecting and stood staring at each other. Gauging.

"Is it worth that much?"

"Yes." His answer carried a bitterness beyond the norm.

"Then yes, Gale, I promise." I responded with a healthy dose of suspicion, and not a hint of levity.

"You remember what that lady told us? About what we would want to do?"

"Sure." He followed my expectations only that far.

"I don't want to do any of that with girls." I was surprised, but at least I understood.

"Oh." I looked away for a second. "I don't really want to do it either. They said it might come later though."

"No, you don't get it." I scowled and he turned away, showing his back. "I don't want to do it with girls. I want to do it with boys."

I fought the urge to throw up. It was a waste of food. And a waste of a hunting partner. The next minutes were silent while I tried to think of words to respond.

"That's wrong Gale. Everyone knows it. You can't tell anyone, ever." He whirled back to face me, and I saw the tears covering his cheeks.

"I know that. I fucking know that."

"Then why did you tell me?" By then I was screaming.

"I had to tell someone. You don't know what it's like."

"Well you shouldn't have." My own tears began to work their way out. "I'm not nice Gale. You had no way of knowing what I would do."

"You already promised."

"Promises mean nothing! Dad promised to come home every morning and he's dead. What makes this different?" I saw the betrayal in his face, and grabbed him when he tried to run. "I won't tell anyone."

After that, we didn't speak for a week.

* * *

"I'm Peeta." He even offered his hand. I just stared at it, thinking about bread and hope.

"I know," I returned, and after an awkward pause, "Katniss." I realized the hand was still there and met it, looking at the dirt beneath the contact.

"You usually work with Madge right? or Gale?" I nod and he continues. "I hope you don't mind but I saw that Gale was holding hands with Delly and Madge has been out recently and so I asked Mr. Keanen to put us together because I thought it would be easier if—"

"Thank you." All I could think about was bread, and even though I knew I'd interrupted, I couldn't bring myself to care.

"It was really no problem." He flushed. "I-I'm happy to work with you. You have good grades in history. And pretty much everything really but especially history." I shook my head and he stopped rambling

"For the bread."

I saw the recognition dawn in his eyes before he looked to the ground. He brought his hand to his face, touching the left cheekbone.

"I should have done more. I'm sorry. I was too scared." I shook my head again and waited before replying.

"You didn't owe me anything. You don't."

"I still wish I'd done more." The debts and payments that decided my life seemed so foreign to him.

"Why?"

"Because…" He took a deep breath and surveyed the sparse schoolyard. "I've always…I've always had a…" Another breath. "I've always wanted to be your friend." Again, I didn't understand.

"Why?" I was from the seam, and he was from the center of town.

"My father, he…knew your mother. He pointed you out on our first day of school. I wanted to talk to you but you were just so focused that I got scared."

"We were five." My disbelief wasn't very well hidden.

"It feels like forever ago. But I've waited for this ever since."

* * *

 **A/N: Just a prologue. Short, simple. Katniss is about 13 years old in the first scene and 14 in the second. This story isn't slash if anyone was wondering. These two scenes just provide background that will save me from some boring exposition in the future. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Retrograde

**Chapter 2: Retrograde**

"Primrose Everdeen"

The words rang like a bell, leaving a painful whine in my ears. It must have been silent, even if I couldn't tell. People knew prim. Their faces held more sorrow and anger than relief. The daughters of District 12 were safe, save one, but that was still enough to darken the crowd. I could see Effie Trinket bending and waving down to Prim, beckoning her to death. I could see my sister struggling forward, unprepared for the reality. I must have called her name. The crowed turned to me and parted. I ran. If only it were me. It could be me. The words came before I thought them, spilling out in a rush.

"I volunteer." The noise rushed back into my ears, what little there was, that is. The peacekeepers were confused and Trinket looked miffed.

"Now, young lady, there is an order to be followed, and—" Her voice held disapproval, but a sickening excitement along with it.

"I volunteer as tribute." Prim was screaming into my dress. I felt arms lift her up and away, and I shared a nod with Gale. Trying to swallow the horror, I stepped up to the stage, smelling more and more lavender perfume as I approached Trinket. She positioned me to her left and reclaimed the microphone.

"In a dramatic turn of events here in District 12, I do believe we have a volunteer!" The disapproval had evaporated, leaving bubbly excitement in its place. "Tell me sweetheart, what is your name?"

"Katniss Everdeen," My voice sounded weak. I resolved to fix that. I wouldn't be a laughingstock.

"Well I'd bet my buttons that was your sister, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Firmer this time. I looked to Prim, near the back of the square, still crying. I spared a glance to Peeta and wished I hadn't. He wasn't crying, but it was a near thing.

"Can't have her steal all the glory, can we?" She tittered in that ridiculous accent. When she realized I wasn't about to respond, she continued. "And now for the boys!"

This time her pick was the first paper she touched, no doubt hoping for the drama to continue. This was more excitement than we'd had in years.

"Peeta Mellark"

It was all I could do not to scream. He stumbled to the stage in shock. Trinket guided him to her right and asked for volunteers, a palpable hope in her voice. He had older brothers—eligible older brothers. They should stand in his place. When it was clear no one would be volunteering, Trinket deflated, but only slightly.

"Alright shake hands you two!"

Without time to think, as soon as we neared each other I was wrapped in his arms. I couldn't get out if I tried, but I was too busy holding him to think about his strength. Trinket was taken aback, but all the more excited at the development. She addressed the crowd without attempting to separate us.

"Let's have a big hand for the tributes from District 12!" Hearing only her clap, I looked to the mass of teenagers in the square. Their hands were held to us in a three fingered salute. I never got the chance to acknowledge their respect. The peacekeepers chose that moment to disentangle our limbs and drag us into the Justice Building. The anthem was still playing outside the doors.

My first visitors were my family.

"It's all my fault," Prim cried, as soon as she saw me. She hugged me, still with tears flowing from her eyes, squeezed shut as they were.

"No Prim. No it's not. You have to listen now. Listen and remember. I won't here for a while." Forever.

I tried to explain everything I could. How to survive off the forest. I knew she had no heart for hunting, but I still told her where the bow was. Desperation would change her. I wanted to save her, more than anything, but that was no longer an option. I would go to Capitol and I would die, all in a matter of days. I made her repeat back to me where the blackberries were, and how to find the lake. That might be enough, with the milk from Lady. When I couldn't think of anything more to say I turned to our mother.

"You can't tune out again. Not like when Dad died. You have to be there for her. For me."

"I won't."

"You just can't."

"I won't."

"Promise you'll try to win. You're smart." I could never deny Prim anything.

"Okay Prim. I promise. I'll do my best okay?"

I let myself cry then, with no one but them to see me. Mom joined our hug and that's how we remained, until the peacekeepers declared our time was up. Prim thrust the mockingjay pin into my hand, right before the door was slammed behind her.

Gale was next.

"You have a shot Katniss." His arms were around me. "You're lethal with a bow. They won't know what hit them."

"They're people Gale. Not squirrels."

"So they're bigger targets." That was how I needed to think. To survive. And I had to survive for Prim.

"Probably less used to getting shot at, too." He smiled at my agreement.

"Don't let them see you coming." His smile turned rueful. "Give them their fucking show Katniss. It's all they want."

"I can try." That wasn't enough for him. "I will try."

We spent another minute together in silence before he pulled back. His stare shifted from my eyes to my shoulder.

"Thank you." I didn't understand. He elaborated. "For keeping your promise."

"I would have been an idiot to tell anyone." We rarely spoke of the topic. It was easy to forget about. After a few seconds I felt the need to say more. "I hope you and Delly work out." It was the wrong thing to say. He looked to the floor.

"It's enough. Don't worry about it." His tone was too harsh. He knew it. "You have…enough to worry about." He met my eyes again.

I wanted to argue—to apologize for how shitty I'd been about it. But he wouldn't want to hear it. "At least I'll have Peeta."

"You can't get attached, Katniss." He spoke with dread and warning.

"I think it's too late for that."

Peacekeepers burst into the room, hurrying Gale out.

"Take care of them Gale! Whatever happens, don't let them starve." I heard him shout his acceptance, before the door closed and the room went silent.

Prepared to wait the next fifteen minutes alone, waiting for the visitation time to end, I was surprised when the door opened a third time. Peeta's father strode in, features stormy and tear stains on his shirt.

"Katniss, I wanted to extend my sympathies. I want you to know that my family will care for yours, no matter the outcome of the next month. We will pray for your wellbeing." By that point, the most I could do was keep my composure.

"Thank you. Why?"

"My son cares for you." There was more he wasn't saying, but I didn't push.

"I can't repay you."

"I would never ask you to."

I could think of nothing to say, and we stood in silence before he swept from the room. With the efforts of Gale and the premier baker in the district, my family would be better fed than I'd ever managed. The relief didn't come, though. There was still too much wrong for feelings of happiness. The remaining ten minutes passed with no more visitors. I half expected Madge to come, but we had apparently grown apart. Our time together was mainly in school, and in the last few years, Peeta replaced here there.

I needed to do some thinking about Peeta—about how I could reconcile our friendship with the threat of the arena looming. Or perhaps, if I should push him as far away as I could. He was smart as a whip and could lie his way out of a well. Both were threats. Before I could force through another thought, the door was slammed open a fourth time and peacekeepers escorted me to a waiting car. Peeta soon followed me through the door, and we were moving. The smooth acceleration was like nothing I'd felt before. Peeta's hand grabbed mine. Trinket was sitting across from us, babbling about the luxuries of the Capitol. She didn't notice our hands.

He leaned in to whisper to me.

"You can do this Katniss. You'll win. I'll do everything I can to see you survive." I could read between the lines. He was talking sacrifice. I should have assented, but my hormones compelled me to speak.

"No. I won't win alone. We will win. Together, somehow." My voice held courage I hadn't felt. Unfortunately, it was enough to interrupt Trinket.

"Oh there will be plenty of time for strategy later. For now just enjoy yourselves." Said like it was the simplest thing in the world. "I imagine both of you will find something especially wonderful about the train. I always notice a new favorite thing, every time I board! For instance, on this last trip from the Capitol I noticed how well crafted each of the doorknobs was. Platinum, you know."

I tuned out her monologue as the station came into view. There was a modest throng of reporters waiting on the steps. Their presence reminded Trinket to straighten her wig before the car door was opened and we were thrust into the shouting. Over the roar of the cameramen I heard questions about the relationship between me and Peeta. Of course we kept pushing through, but their insistence gave me inspiration. Our hands were still locked together and I couldn't be more thankful. I squeezed his hand tighter. He rewarded me by interlacing our fingers. This would be our justification. Our alliance would be so deeply implicit, they would be pained to pull us apart. We may both survive. I spared a glance into his eyes and saw dawning understanding. For the nightmare this was, and despite how much I wished Peeta could have been saved from the Games, I was forever thankful I had him.

And I knew I had him. Whatever it was he saw in me, I realized his interest wasn't a passing one years ago. Really it was at our end of term dance, in the spring of our first conversation. He had grown into his shoulders, with flanks of muscle visible under his shirts. Half the girls in our form hoped for his invitation. When the dance passed without his attendance, even I was confused. It took Gale's laughing explanation for me to understand. Those nervous stares and stilted conversations of the past week were for a reason. He thought I would say no. And I may have. A provider had no time for romance.

But I had no one to provide for anymore.

As the doors closed behind us, Trinket guided us to a small couch. A loveseat, I realized. I wanted to wash the tears off my face before the drunk saw me.

"Ms. Trinket, could I please use the bathroom?" My best manners felt obligatory in the richly appointed room.

"Oh so formal!" She tittered again. I tried not to scowl. "Effie is fine." She looked to Peeta. "For both of you dears. The washroom is just down the hall, though those doors there." She motioned across the room with both hands in a near-curtsey.

"Please excuse me as well, Effie." Peeta followed, still holding my hand. We entered the bathroom together, and he locked the door behind us. He whispered urgently, just as soon as I managed to get some water to pour out of the sink.

"You don't have to do this. I'll help all I can anyway—for you, not for myself."

"I know. I want to."

"It's not worth it. I'm not worth it. You can't die Katniss. I can. I'm ready for it."

"I'm not ready for that. What's wrong with trying?" He looked defeated. Not an appropriate expression for the prospect of survival.

"Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"If they don't allow it—if only one of us can survive, it will be you."

"I won't let it come to that."

"You have to promise me that, or I don't know what I'll do." He let the threat hang there, all the more serious for being whispered.

"Then yes Peeta, if we have to make that choice, I'll be the one to live." I had to. For Prim.

He left the bathroom then, and I washed the streaks off my face with the ambiguously floral soap. After gathering all the resolve I had left, I hurried from the washroom and back to the loveseat. I got there before the drunk. I sat against Peeta, letting his arm fall over my shoulders. My feet were planted firmly on the floor. Peeta might protect me, but I would never be weak. We finished settling only moments before a door burst open. It was opposite the door for the bathroom, and if Effie was correct, the bar car would be found that way.

"Mr. Abernathy," Peeta started.

"Haymitch, for fuck's sake." He lifted the lid from a silver bucket. "Where's the ice?" He looked at me, for whatever reason.

"We haven't seen any." I didn't mean to sound mocking, but from his reaction I might have.

"We'll aren't you charming, Sweetheart." Pressed against Peeta as I was, there was little point in fighting the nickname. Peeta didn't exactly help with his interjection.

"She really is, if you get to know her." He looked into my eyes, and I could see the familiar affection. For whatever reason, this sparked interest in Haymitch.

"So you know each other then," The drunk slurred. His eyebrows were firmly raised.

"She's been my best friend—for years." Haymitch's brow furrowed.

"Best friend? Fuck does that mean, Sweetheart?" Peeta answered for me.

"I've wanted her for a decade. She hardly knew who I was. I was way too nervous to introduce myself till a couple years ago." Haymitch stared at me, and I had to correct Peeta.

"That's not all true. I've cared for Peeta since we were 12. He gave me bread. I didn't think I could ever give him the time he deserved. Until now, that is."

"So a love story." His statement left no room for response. The room was silent for a few minutes before he staggered to the chairs opposite us. "You're pretty enough for it, I'll give you that much. Especially you, Loverboy." Peeta shook his head.

"Katniss is more beautiful than anyone I've ever seen when she smiles. But she's beautiful all the time anyway." He was grinning by the end of his declaration. I flushed, to my horror. I decided to bring the conversation back into productive territory.

"We're working together." Haymitch seemed confused. "In the arena, we're going to stay together until the end."

"And what happens in the end?" Haymitch rolled his eyes. "In the extremely, and I mean extremely, unlikely scenario that the both of you manage to outlast all the other, bigger, better trained tributes. Who dies?" Before Peeta can disclose my promise, I jump in.

"We win together. We won't fight each other, and neither of us is going to die." The drunk leaned back and laughed.

"How the fuck are you gonna manage that, Sweetheart? For 73 years there's been one fucking winner. You think you can change that?" Peeta answered the rhetorical question with fire in his eyes.

"Yes. We have to try. You're going to help us, because you're our mentor and because you don't want to see another two kids from your district die. Even if it ends in shit at least we fucking tried. I'm not going to give up on her." He looked to Haymitch's drink. "And even if you want to give up and drown yourself in alcohol, I will not let you."

"Let's just get one thing straight right now, boy. Booze and I come as a matched pair. Now I think you have a shot—a better shot than most, anyway. So…" He paused, grimacing. "If you don't try any funny business with my alcohol, I'll try for sober enough to help you little shits." Peeta nodded.

"That's all I want." He looked over at me. "All I want is her, safe."

"Lovebirds make me puke." As if the alcohol had nothing to do with it. "I think thats enough mentoring for today." He stumbled back in the direction of the supposed bar car. Before slamming the door, he shouted back at us. "Breakfast is tomorrow." After a minute Peeta spoke.

"Do you think he means he wants us to be at breakfast tomorrow, or that tomorrow is dedicated to breakfast?" I smiled in spite of myself.

"I don't think even he knows what he means." Peeta's laughter was bright, and the same pitch it always was. I let a pause creep in before asking him about it. "How can you be happy now? How can I?"

"I cant guess for you, but I finally have you to myself. All to myself. It's all I've ever wanted. If I didn't know you were in danger, I wouldn't be able to stop smiling."

I was about to reply when Effie strode into the carriage.

"So now that you've met Haymitch, I'm sure you probably want to some time to process all these new opportunities." She motioned for us to follow and walked out past the bathroom. "You'll each get your own room, even on the train. They even have en suites!" Apparently this meant a lot to her, as she didn't say another word until we'd reached our rooms. "Aren't they just wonderful? I think its important to take it all in, because even though you're here, and even though it's just for a little while, you get to enjoy all this!" Peeta stepped into one of the rooms and looked around, before addressing Effie.

"This really is different. Thank you Effie."

"Yes," I added. "Thank you." The pink haired laughingstock of District 12 seemed on the verge of tears.

"Oh such manners! I've never been thanked on the train before." I couldn't see how the location where she was thanked mattered, but I nodded to her anyway before she turned on a heel and clunked down the hallway.

I was about to close the door and cry myself to sleep when Peeta stepped across to my room.

"Can I ask you something?" I nodded and he smiled again. We walked the distance to the bed and sat down. "I know I'm probably annoying you but I needed to ask without Haymitch around. You actually like me? Like, you want to be more than just friends?" Even if I didn't, I wouldn't have been able to say no in the face of that much hope.

"Yes, Peeta. I like you. I care about you." I hadn't said enough. I went on after a second. "I want to be around you. I want to touch you. I want you to touch me." With each statement his grin got wider. "I want to protect you."

"I've been waiting my whole life to hear you say that." He leaned forward to tuck a stand of hair behind my ear. I enjoyed the contact more than I'd anticipated. "I used to dream about this moment all the time. I imagined what you would be wearing. And what I'd done to deserve it." He stopped and looked away. I could see the tears forming in his eyes. "But, I mean obviously, I never even imagined it would be like this."

When his tears started falling, I couldn't hold back anymore. With a sob, I let my anger and sorrow manifest. Peeta, in the midst of his own turmoil, grabbed me in his arms. As if I could make the Games and he Capitol disappear. But I couldn't. All I could do was return the embrace and hope I was enough. We remained together and silent for what must have been hours. It was Peeta who spoke the first words, halting as they were.

"Can I…would you mind if I…slept here tonight." Before I could answer, he explained further. "I never sleep alone. Usually Rye and I share, but sometimes it's any of us." He trailed off.

"Yes. Of course. How could I say no?" We didn't speak again that night.

I fell asleep like that, wound around Peeta with my face pressed into his neck.

* * *

 **A/N: Slightly more substantial chapter. I'll stick to some canon plot points because I want to and they fit, but I like to think I'm creative enough to be comfortable deviating from my source material. Do prepare yourselves for an M rating at some point. Once again, thanks for reading.**


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